


It's Beginning To Show...

by clockworksilence



Series: Something I Can't Have [2]
Category: The Old Guard (Movie 2020)
Genre: Booker | Sebastien le Livre-centric, Little bit sexy, M/M, Pre-Canon, Team Dynamics, and dealing with it like booker, he's just going through something, in which Booker is bi, this isn't a bookerxjoe fic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-23
Updated: 2021-02-23
Packaged: 2021-03-13 15:48:25
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 973
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29653623
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/clockworksilence/pseuds/clockworksilence
Series: Something I Can't Have [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2179074
Comments: 2
Kudos: 13





	It's Beginning To Show...

Booker didn’t dream. Not really. Not often.

He tried his best to avoid them altogether, doing everything he could to simply black out and fall into blissful oblivion, side-stepping the chance of nightmares about an iron maiden in freezing water that had him reaching for the bottle when he awoke with a start in the early hours, shaking and breathless. Though some dreams were sweeter - reminisces about family, day-to-day life - over 200 years of experience was proof enough that it simply wasn't worth the risk.

Besides, there were other dreams he was trying to quash. And they were an altogether different animal.

The arid Spanish summer seemed to trigger this particular beast. Even with the windows wide open, covers kicked back and sleeping in almost nothing, the warmth was almost oppressive, though the sun had long since set. It also had a way of making you incredibly aware of your own body.

So Booker's sub-conscious decided to send him to the only other place he could remember it being quite so suffocating at night: Greece. But it didn't send him there alone.

He was dimly aware of the fact that he was in the rear room of the Grecian hideout, laid on his back with an undeniably male someone lying between his legs, warm, willing, kissing him deeply with so much conviction, it made him groan in frustration: _just fuck me already._

Whoever it was swiftly and enthusiastically obliged. He turned over, the kisses burning on the flesh of his spine, trailing ever downwards before finally granting him his wish, taking him.

It was hard. Rough. Fast. He begged for it, gasping. _Deeper. Like that._ _ ** **Shit...****_

Pulled up onto his knees, back against the stranger’s chest, lips to his neck alternating between fierce kisses and gentle biting, so close to something beautiful, Booker woke up with a jolt.

His heart was thundering as violently as it had in his dream. He felt the unmistakeable straining of arousal against his underwear and an intense confusion tinged with more than a little shame began to creep over him. Because as sleep fell away and wakefulness took hold, his brain began to order and process the images and it clicked that the person wasn't a stranger at all.

He'd dreamed about being fucked by Joe. And that was a decidedly new development.

He sat up, bringing his knees to his chest and rested his elbows on them. He lowered his head, embarrassment rising as a hot flush, raked his fingers through his hair and exhaled. Even though the dreams weren't new, they had never involved anyone on the team before and he could feel himself beginning to spiral.

There never seemed to be any rhyme or reason as to when they would happen or why. He used to think it was simply being around Joe and Nicky, watching the two of them around each other that would sometimes be a catalyst. He missed that level of intimacy and devotion, he'd figured. But the first instance that he could remember was well before he discovered his immortality... 

And they were starting to become more frequent. More intense. More visceral in their content.

If it had only happened once or twice, it could have been explained away - shrugged off and forgotten. But Booker knew better than most that, particularly for him and those he could hear beginning to rise and shine in the room beyond his door, dreams meant a whole lot more. Their message, having remained unprocessed and ignored for so long, had clearly begun to hit a little closer to home than was comfortable in a bid to get his attention. By involving a person he thought of as a brother, someone he didn't feel anything romantic for in the least, it felt like a banshee scream, demanding for once to be heard. To be felt. To be accepted.

Booker still wasn't sure he was ready to hear it. He refused to deal with them when the other person involved was a mere faceless stranger. He had no idea how to deal it being Joe and he even fewer ideas still about how he was supposed to face him now.

***

It was Andy who noticed something wasn’t right first. When Booker finally padded barefoot into the kitchen, yesterday's t-shirt and jeans thrown on, Joe offered him a mug of coffee – a move done thousands of times before. Booker took the mug, their fingers brushing innocuously for the briefest of seconds and Andy watched as a curious fuchsia blush crept up his face, a blush that went mercifully unnoticed by both Joe and Nicky.

“You alright, Book?” She asked as her got closer to the table, a little concerned.

“Yeah. Fine.” Booker replied brusquely, falling into the chair opposite her, sipping from the mug though, fooling nobody. Anybody with half a brain could tell that everything was not fine.

Andy dropped the subject as quickly as she had picked it up but she continued to notice the strange looks Booker gave Joe for the rest of the day and couldn't help but wonder.

In many respects Booker was open and all-too honest; forthright, blunt, leaving nobody in two minds as to his feelings on any particular subject. But he kept his inner-self almost as guarded as Andy kept hers, and though she had long suspected something about Booker, it had been nearly impossible to qualify. Lingering, almost appraising looks at attractive men in whatever dive bar they snuck into. But then if he passed a beautiful woman on the street, his eyes would follow them too.

Andy knew what that meant. She did exactly the same thing. But years had gone by and Booker had never once done or said anything to validate her suspicions.

The cracks were starting to show; the dam was about to break.


End file.
